the better. How can one see beauty in a lurid bowl and shade of red
glass! Better stick to wax candles the rest of your life than indulge in
such a lamp!

I know people plead that they have to buy what is offered; they cannot
find simple lamps and hanging lanterns at small prices and so they
_must_ buy bad ones. The manufacturer makes just the objects that people
demand. So long as you accept these things, just so long will he make
them. If all the women who complain about the hideous lighting-fixtures
that are sold were to refuse absolutely to buy them, a few years would
show a revolution in the designing of these things.

There has been of late a vulgar fashion of having a huge mass of colored
glass and beads suspended from near-brass chains in the dining-rooms of
certain apartments and houses. These monstrous things are called
"domes"--no one knows why. For the price of one of them you could buy a
three pronged candlestick, equipped for electricity, for your
dining-room table. It is the sight of hundreds of these dreadful "domes"
in the lamp shops that gives one a feeling of discouragement. The
humblest kitchen lamp of brass and tin would be beautiful by contrast.

When all is said and done, we must come back to wax candles for the
most beautiful light of all. Electricity is the most efficient, but
candlelight is the most satisfying. For a drawing-room, or any formal
room where a clear light is not required, wax candles are perfect. There
are still a few houses left where candlesticks are things of use and are
not banished to the shelves as curiosities. Certainly the clear, white
light of electricity seems heaven-sent when one is dressing or working,
but for between-hours, for the brief periods of rest, the only thing
that rivals the comfort of candlelight is the glow of an open fire.

IX

HALLS AND STAIRCASES

In early days the hall was the large formal room in which the main
business of the house was transacted. It played the part of court-room,
with the lord of the manor as judge. It was used for dining, living, and
for whatever entertainment the house afforded. The stairs were not a
part of it: they found a place as best they could. From the times of the
primitive ladder of the adobe dwelling to the days of the spiral
staircase carried up in the thickness of the wall, the stairway was
always a primitive affair, born of necessity, with little claim to
beauty.

With the Renaissance in Italy came th